


Raindrops Like Teardrops Do Fall

by SennexTheAssasinKingOfLight



Series: They Go Together. [5]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Geralt of Rivia cares, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Getting to a point where my collection of one shots is probably canon divergent, Hope, M/M, Miner Out of characterness, Not Beta Read, Porn with Feelings, REALLY MINOR, Sad Ending, Sad Jaskier | Dandelion, Sex, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:54:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22598899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SennexTheAssasinKingOfLight/pseuds/SennexTheAssasinKingOfLight
Summary: Geralt needs to retrieve Ciri.Jaskier doesn't like it.Geralt gives him an enchanted item as a promise.Jaskier finds a new song idea.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: They Go Together. [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1624777
Comments: 26
Kudos: 169
Collections: Interesting Character and/or Interesting Relationship Development





	Raindrops Like Teardrops Do Fall

GERALT

He wakes up before Jaskier, the way he has all week. He sits up and then stares at the bard sleeping peacefully in the soft grey light of early morning. It’s raining, barely but it doesn't look like it will stop anytime soon. Jaskier has a hand under the pillow the other resting in front of his face. He lets himself smile a small, barely there smile. Jaskier was beautiful and in this moment, he allowed himself to admit it. He looked over what was visible of the bards body, little purple and red blossoms bloomed across his shoulders. He looked away. He felt guilty, not about the marks, but about what he knew he needed to do. He pushed the feelings away. With all the deftness and silence of practice he stood from the bed and dressed. He grabbed his weapons and paused at the door. He glanced back and hoped that Jaskier would still be asleep when he returned. He left the inn and stepped into a nearly desolate street. Light misting rain falls around him. Few people were out this early, though the city was waking up around him. 

His feet take him exactly where he needs to go. The smith looks up from his work.  
“Aye Witcher, it’s done. Fine little thing it is.” The smith says, he’s an old man well practiced at his trade. He picked up the item from the stand it was on and handed it to Geralt to be inspected. He nodded. It was... it was perfect.  
“Thank you.” He hands the smith the rest of his payment and then some. He tucks the item safely into his pocket. Then he heads in the direction of the next location with speed. Jaskiers been looking at him like he knows something is going on. It doesn’t help that he shows up late, and leaves early and has since they came to this city. He quickened his pace, pulling his cloak tight against the persistent drizzle. 

This next task would be a little more difficult. He had spent the entire week gathering the supplies for Triss. He had brought them here on purpose and was grateful that she had agreed to help him. The enchantment was time consuming to perform. That was the biggest issue. He was seething from the time this was taking. He’s been saving everything he could to make sure that they wouldn’t be low on coins. That Jaskier wouldn’t be low on coin. Jaksier had been suspicious at first but then started doing the same with comments about not knowing how winter would be and then finally the bard had just played along. He was loath to admit it but destiney seemed to be on his side about this. 

He let his thoughts wander. Nilfgaard was starting to gain traction and he couldn’t leave his child of surprise in a war zone even if it would have been easier. Now he was paying for it by trying to explain to Jaskier why they needed to be seperated for a while. He still wasn’t sure how he was going to succeed in that. Their traveling together was really the only thing that they have ever truly fought about. He was met at the side door by Triss.   
“So, what is the item you want me to enchant.”   
“Don’t” He says just above a whisper.   
“Don’t what?” She asked confused.  
“Ask.” He finishes on a breath.   
He holds the item out to her and she grins taking it.   
“I see. And this is for?”   
“A friend.” He says staring at the item. She smiles sweetly, eyes narrowed.   
“Lucky Friend.”  
“Hmmm.”  
“ Let’s get started then.” 

They exchanged a quick thank you and goodbye. He walked quickly back to the inn. He hoped luck was still on his side, he doubted it. He checked the item was still in his pocket.   
Luck was not on his side. When he opened the door to their room Jaskier was staring at him from the chair by the table. 

JASKIER

He woke up to an empty bed again. The sheets were cold. He swallowed his heart out of his throat. Geralt would come back. He had all week. But this was too much like it was when they first started traveling. Since setting foot in this town the witcher had come to bed very late or left very early and it left the bard feeling sick. Sometimes it was both. But a quick look around the room told Jaskier he would come back. His potions and spare clothes were there. He sighed, and it sounded more like a sob. He cleared his throat and slowly, so slowly got out of bed. He dressed and dread filled his stomach. He planted himself in the chair and waited staring at the door. 

Geralt was going to leave. And he couldn’t stop him. He wasn’t even sure if he would even be informed when it happened. This was the only thing they ever really truely fought about. He wanted to stay with Geralt until he was too old to do so. ‘Damn my mortality’ he thought to himself. Something told him it didn’t matter how much he fought this time, he was sure he wouldn’t be continuing with the witcher. He bit his lip. His hands itched to play his lute but he couldn’t get himself to do so. It didn’t matter that Geralt had taught him to use a dagger correctly to help him stay safe, or that he had started to take notice of things like Jaskeirs day to day comfort. 

He wondered if it would be easier if he thought Geralt was just having an affair. And it would have been in a way. Jaskier believed that there are two kinds of love. Love and love. One was what he had for Geralt, the other was that he had for the many others he had taken to bed, the art he enjoyed, the colors that made his world better. Chances are if an affair were the case it would be a working woman and they usually did these things together, with consent from all parties. It was also very rare. 

It was mid morning when the door to their room opened. He read the surprise in the witchers face, anyone else would have missed it. Jaksier watched him intently as he entered the room slowly. The way an animal does when they are wary of their surroundings. He watches as Geralt unceremoniously lowers his weapon and his pack to the floor beside the door. He sits straighter as the witcher stalks across the room and pins him to the chair. They stare at eachother and finally, Geralt kisses him. It’s chaste and passionate all at once.. Jaskier doesn’t move. Geralt pulls away, barely letting their noses brush.   
“You’re upset.”  
‘I will not cry’ he tells himself. His voice breaks anyways.   
“You’re leaving.” He looks away. It’s too much. 

GERALT

It felt like he’d been stabbed by his own sword, plunged through his back. He feels icy and swallows despite himself. He will not lie to his bard.   
“Jask.”   
“I won’t fight you. If you have to go then just do it. Because I can’t take it if this is what we are. What has all of this been? You wanted me to leave, and then you didn’t and god’s did you actually want me to stay?” There are tears in his eyes, unshed but there and his breathing is labored.   
“Yes. I did.”   
“But you’re leaving now, for real. Because I’m mortal, and I’ll die, and what?” his voice breaks a little more with each word, his breathing shuddering and tight in his chest. “So you can travel alone, and never have your wounds tended to properly? So you can forget how to interact with people. Because you’re bored of me?”  
“No.” He snarls. He takes a deep breath, tries again.  
“No Jask, none of those things.”   
“What then Geralt?” Jaskier says finally making eye contact again. “ Am I not enough?” After that there is silence in the room broken only by Jaskiers heavy breathing, and stuttering heart. Geralt kneels so he can look up at Jaskier. It’s not anything major, except this is Geralt a witcher, the White Wolf, The Butcher Of Blavakin on his knees. Jaskiers heart skips a beat. Geralt rests his hands on the bards knees.   
“Look at me please, Jaskier.” It’s an order and a request and it is said low, and from deep within him. Jaskier does and he has tears on his cheek. Unconsciously he lifts a hand and wipes them away. Jaskier laughs mournfully. Geralt opens his mouth. Closes it. Starts again. HEs sure he looks like a fish. “Hmm.” He breathes out and then,   
“Will you let me finish all of what I want to say? It might… It will be difficult for me to say all of it.” Jaskier only nods still looking into his eyes. He can feel the weight of that stare in his chest.  
“Nilfgaard is advancing, they plan to take Cintra. I cannot...I will not stand by knowing that there is a child there that is mine by the law of surprise. I can’t leave that child in a war zone. I can’t Jaskier….I want you to be safe…..I- I can’t protect two of you at the same time. I would die trying, but I won’t take the risk if I can leave you here where it is safe, and come back.” He speaks that last part louder.   
“I will come back.”   
He wants to stop there but he doesn't. He keeps going. Jaskier has taught him that words, though he doesn’t use them often are an important tool. And he continues because how could he leave Jaskier thinking so little of himself.   
“Dandelion, I will come back. But I want you to be safe. That is the only reason I can’t take you with me. You are not boring. You are not a burden. I do not want to travel alone. I want,” he breathes out and lowers one of his hands to his pocket. Jaskier doesn’t notice still lost in his eyes.  
“ I want you around as long as you can be. Dandelion. Jaksier. Julian. By whatever name you want to be called, regardless of the songs you sing. Maybe.. Maybe even because of them.” He pulls the item out of his pocket.   
“This…” a breath his, and a hitch in Jaskiers, “This is a promise. It’s enchanted so that I can locate you using my pendant. It binds us you might say.” 

JASKIER

His heart is racing. The last time Geralt had spoken so many words was at the mountain. And now, he was on his knees in front of him, telling him everything he needs and wants to hear and he knows it’s the truth. It’s the truth because Geralt has never lied to him and because he trusts him. And damn the man because he’s holding a ring out, a ring that is silver and inlaid with copper and gold. His breath hitches despite himself. It’s poetic and he wonders if it was done on purpose.   
“It’s a ring.” Jaskier breathes.   
“I know.”   
“But…”  
“I know what it represents. I chose it deliberately.” It’s gruff and maybe a touch annoyed, but it’s fond too.   
He kisses him then, because what else was he supposed to do.   
Geralt withdraws a little, leaning back on his heels, and he swallows concern rearing its nasty head.   
“Am I forgiven Jask?”  
“Yes.” He wipes his face with his sleeve. “Yes. I don’t like it. But I understand. I’m sorry I doubted you.”   
“You were well within your rights.” It’s so matter of fact it breaks Jaskiers heart all over again. He pushes Geralts shoulder and he receives a sharp look.   
“Can I try it on?” He changes subjects.   
“It’s yours.” He rolls his eyes and holds out his hand. Geralts watching him with a smirk but acquiesces and takes his hand. It fits exactly as he’s sure Geralt knew it would. He slides to the floor in front of his witcher and they just sit there a moment.   
“When?”  
“Tomorrow.”   
“Best make use of today then.”  
“Hmm” Amber eyes stare at him and there is a fond smile on his face.  
“Later, we should make sure you have everything.” He says standing and offering Geralt a hand. The witcher takes it, not that it’s needed and they both know it, and stands. He’s already moving around the room and dumping items on the bed. He feels the witcher watching him.   
“You’re not going to brood.”   
“I can brood when you're gone. Your here now, Geralt, let me revel in your presence.” They check through Geralts supplies and find that he needs a few ingredients to make a new potion and that he’s low on his blade wax. He needs a new pair of socks, or two. It’s simple little things like rations. They head out into the rain to gather the supplies, but not before checking that Roach is comfortable and that she doesn't need anything. Her tak is good, and so are her shoes. 

He shivers at the chill in the air. Geralt hmms next to him and then he’s drowning in the mans’ cloak. He smiles up at the witcher.   
“We should get you a proper travel cloak while we are out.” He smiles,  
“It would be a good idea, wouldn’t it.”  
“As long as it’s not all eccentric.”  
“Geralt, why, I can’t believe you. Take away my flare and what have we. Hmm? A boring bard. That’s what. No color, no life, no flair. Hey!” Geralt is walking into the apothecary shop.   
The day goes by in a blur. Finally evening comes. They are having supper and Jaskier looks longingly at the crowd. He wants to play, but he doesn’t want to leave Geralt's side.   
“Go. Jask, I’d like to hear you play.” He preens, grinning from ear to ear.   
He picks up his lute and plays his best.   
He makes eye contact with Geralt throughout the night, and his heart skips when he gets a real genuine smile. He can’t help himself then. He bows to his fans, scoops up his coin and makes his way to Geralt, who without breaking eye contact takes a drink from his ale.   
He leans into the witchers space, breath ghosting over his ear and says, “ upstairs.” And then he’s moving to their room with speed. 

GERALT  
He follows the bard obediently. It doesn't take long to reach their room, Jaskiers lute is on the table. Jaskier is in front of him almost immediately. They just stare for a moment, before with reservation, Jaskier speaks.   
“Make love to me?” 

It’s uncertain, and a little hesitant. Geralt licks his lips. He nods not trusting his voice. He allows himself to be led by the hand to the bed. Jaskier leans up and kisses him. It’s different even from their first time. It’s all passion and gentleness wrapped up in a bow, instead of want and need and uncertainty. There is no hesitation in their actions tonight. Jaskier pulls away from him and then works at untying his shirt with agonizingly slow movements. And then he is pulling him down onto the bed. He looks down and kisses the bard. He lets his hands wander, it’s all looks between them. The kiss heats, Jaskier moans into his mouth and he swallows it up. Jaskier breaks the kiss pulling his shirt over his head, and working at undoing his own. Geralt pushes himself up onto his knees and watches intently. He smirks and undoes the ties on Jaksiers trousers and kisses his way down the bards flesh as he pulls them off. He tosses them unceremoniously to the floor and then removes his own. 

“Touch me Geralt.” 

He crawls back on top of the bard and smothers him in kisses, he drags his teeth down his neck and bites at his clavicle. He takes a nipple into his mouth and worries it between his teeth and lets his other hand play with the other. He brushes his other hand along Jaskiers thigh and the bard all but whines. He moves lower kissing his way down the bards body. His hands on fire from the contact, he doesn’t stop. He inhales Jaskeirs sent and shivers. He kisses his hip, sucks a mark onto it, bits a little harder than necessary And Jaskier yelps in that way that makes him ache with want. His cock is hard and twitching with want. He laps at the flesh below the mark in apology. He moved down and leaves barely there kisses along the length of Jakseirs manhood before taking him in mouth. Jaskier moans loudly below him and thrusts his hips. Geralt lets him, sucks greedily and traces lazily with his tongue around the cock in his mouth. He picks up the pace before abruptly pulling away with a wet pop. He moves back up and kisses Jaskier. Their arousals make contact and he groans at it. He lets them rut against each other for a moment, before he says,

“On your knees.” 

The Musician aquiesses, and receives kisses along his back and shoulders.   
“Geralt please, I want you.”  
He feels him move back against his own hardness, and nips at his shoulder. He reaches for the oil and dips his fingers in. With a torturously slow pace he teases Jaskiers entrance.   
“Geralt, I said make love, not t—” he’s cut off as geralt inserts a finger as deep as it will go. Jaskier arches his back head arching backwards beneath his touch. He leans forward and captures his lips while he continues moving that finger in and out in a steady, obnoxiously slow pace. He continues his menstrations and inserts another finger. Jaskier moans into his mouth and moves a hand to his own manhood. Geralt growls and curls his fingers deep inside him.   
“Please, Geralt.”  
“Mmm” he hums into his bard shoulder before he enters him. He goes slow, gentle as he can and puts an arm around Jaskeirs middle to support him. The bard is a mess in a few moments as Geralt thrusts into him.   
“More. Please, More” Jaksier pants and he picks up the pace making sure that he hits his prostate. Eventually he reaches down and takes Jaskier in his hand.   
“Sing for me.” And Jaskier does moaning loudly as he spends and Geralt follows suit shortly after. 

JASKIER

They lay next to each other after. Jaskier is curled tightly into Geralt and he smiles. There’s a fire driving away the chill of night air. The rain is still falling outside and he listens to the melody around him. Geralt's heartbeat in one ear and the rain in the other. He doesn’t want to sleep. To close his eyes, to do anything other than bask in the warmth of the body next to him. 

Sleep claims him anyways. 

In the morning, they make love again, and finally they dress and they eat. It’s routine. It’s still raining. 

Geralt hands him something. It’s a bag of coins. He just stares,   
“Why?”   
“I want you safe, and warm, and fed when I get back.”   
He smiles a wry smile.   
“I will be.”   
They stare at one another for a long moment.   
“Come back to me safe, and with your child surprise.”   
A sharp nod is all the answer he gets. Geralt kisses him chastly and mounts Roach.   
“It’s raining Geralt.” The witcher looks at him softly and wipes the tears from his face.  
“So it is.”

As he watches Geralt ride away all he can think about is the irony that somehow teardrops and raindrops share the same shape. All the while he twirls the ring on his finger.


End file.
